


The First Step To Getting Better

by Nygmatech



Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Batman: Arkham Knight Spoilers, Caring Harvey, Conflict, Conflict Resolution, Denial of Feelings, Dialogue Heavy, Edward Nygma Has PTSD, Edward Nygma is Bad at Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Harvey Dent Sings Sinatra. What Else Can You Ask For?, Implied Relationships, M/M, Protective Harvey Dent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nygmatech/pseuds/Nygmatech
Summary: After his "foolproof" scheme was inevitably foiled by the Bat, Edward Nygma once again finds himself in police custody, among the other criminals Batman had gathered up that night. Luckily for him, the exhausted Two-Face couldn't bear to let him go through this rough time alone.
Relationships: Harvey Dent/Edward Nygma
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have been really, /really/ in my feelings about Arkhamverse Riddler and his slow decline over the series. This short little fic takes place immediately after the events of Arkham Knight, and was born from my need for some Eddie Comfort and blatant Sinatra references. :'^) 
> 
> This thing is all just a bunch of saccharine fluff, ngl, and I will not apologize for it. Your honor, these messy criminals love each other.
> 
> Hm hm, updates/edits: Didn't expect to start working on a new chapter of this, but in the process I revisited and made a few adjustments. Two-Face is so damn blendy in Arkhamverse, and I really wanted to work more with the idea of both boys sharing the driver's seat in writing. For clarity, I use Two-Face to refer to them as a whole, and anything in bold specifically is "Bad Harv" speaking!

From the moment Edward Nygma was slammed into the cage where they kept the assorted lot of criminals the Bat dragged in that night, Two-Face insisted that wherever he ended up, the Riddler must go with him. Dent held that it was imperative that the sniveling, shambling mess of a man couldn’t be left alone. He knew him well enough to state that. The two guards keeping watch over the central holding cell initially laughed in his split face, asking why the hell they would even consider this possibility. Utterly drained from the events of the night and not even in the mood to fuck around, Two-Face stared them dead in the eyes.

“Good luck trying to get him to eat, **let alone shut up,** ” he growled, leaning against the bars. “ **We’re offering this to spare _your_ asses. Run it by the fucking shrinks if you need to, we bet they have his case files.**”

“Unnecessary!” a somewhat nasally and extremely prideful voice from the far end of the cell interrupted. “I would have case files if I were a mentally ill lunatic like the rest of you, but I, the Riddler, am certifiably sane! I can prove it.” Edward always got like this when cornered and defeated, his defensive ego overriding any coherent train of thought he could possibly have in the moment. Two-Face sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and flaring his nostrils before looking back at the guards, whose expressions had sobered. Edward had clearly moved on, now griping about the unfairness of it all and the way he had been cheated out of his victory.

The guards, not sure how much more they could take of this, turned to each other and nodded. “We’ll uh, we’ll send your request to administration, Dent,” the shorter guard began, rubbing at his temple while the other scrawled down notes on a small piece of paper. “No funny business, you hear me?”

“ **No funny business. Who the fuck do you think we look like, the Joker?** ” Two-Face snarled. “ **Besides. We can’t do _shit_. You took our goddamn coin, remember?**”

The taller guard narrowed his eyes. “We understand, Dent, but keep in mind you’re also a criminal. We don’t usually take _advice_ from criminals.”

“ **Do you want him to shut up or not?** ”

The guards stood in silence. Edward was still was incessantly and insultingly raving towards the other inmates, including Two-Face himself. He sounded like a broken record on loop. “We want him to shut up. Damn it...we should have an answer for you once we get you freaks moving.”

“Thank you. Now ** _get out of our face_ ,**” Two-Face snapped, before he shut his eyes once more to drown everything out around him. Even when exhausted and enraged, his concern for Edward still persisted. The egotistical son of a bitch hadn’t even spoken to him in months, but Dent was equally guilty. The two criminals had been too caught up in their own endeavors, and ended up growing distant in the process. Neither had the nerve to approach the other about it, and it was clear Edward still held onto some resentment. It would be a lie to say Two-Face didn’t as well. He almost wished Edward had the balls to insult him again in this shitty little cage they were kept in.

Some time passed, Two-Face had no idea how long, before a gaggle of officers entered the room. The prisoners were escorted out one by one, onward to the individual cells where they were to spend the night, at the very least. The Riddler and Two-Face were the last to be moved, with the shorter guard from earlier grabbing hold of Two-Face’s arms to cuff his wrists. 

“Ran it by the softies in admin. Congratulations, Dent. You and Nygma are sharing a cell.”

The taller guard laughed from the other corner, where he effortlessly handled Edward, who was struggling to no avail. The guard barely batted an eye while the green-shirted man berated him. “Doesn’t the constitution have something in there about cruel and unusual punishment?” he jabbed.

The shorter guard guffawed. “Yeah right, who even cares about scum like these guys?” Turning back to Two-Face, he twisted the man’s arm to turn him and pushed him out the holding pen’s door. “Just remember, you did this to yourself, Dent.”

Two-Face refused to humor him with a response as he was led down the hallway.

\---

Dent was shoved into the new cell first, with Nygma to follow. Both were still in the clothes they had on before; nobody at the GCPD wanted to deal with any more than the bare minimum beyond security measures this late at night. Edward continued to protest, shouting variants of “Get your boorish hands off of me, you halfwit!” until he was no longer in physical contact with them. The door was slammed shut once Edward was inside; his stomach sank like it was made of lead at the mere sound.

“Nothing else to say, Nygma?” Two-Face taunted, voice a deadpan as he tried to wrest away the incessant throbbing pain in his head.

“Fuck you, Dent,” Edward fired back, surprisingly succinct.

“Fuck me? Ed, you’re the one who moved out. To what? To work on your little scavenger hunt?”

“I was trying to end our _bat problem_ once and for all, a task not a single one of you madmen in this city could even seem to accomplish. I was this close, Dent. This close to finally ending him.”

“And guess what? He still got out of it,” Two-Face uttered with a scowl. “He always does, Nygma. Yes, we always gotta prepare for the bat, but you practically invite him in.”

Edward glared at Two-Face’s statement. “I need to prove that I’m better than him!”

“ _ **No you don’t!** _” Two-Face’s voice raised to a harsh shout that bounced off the brick walls and concrete floor, the volume of which even shocked himself. Edward froze, not a single muscle moving from the position he was in. Taking a few deep breaths, Two-Face pushed just enough emotion back to stabilize his tone. “You don’t. Edward. You need to stop competing with him. It’s fucking destroying you.”

“It is _not_ destroying me!” Edward pushed back. “I’m perfectly fine, aside from being stuck in this penitentiary with _you_.” He emphatically stamped his foot on the ground. “I don’t need help, Dent! I never do.”

Two-Face felt an ache in his chest. Here Edward went again with the denial, and this time it was more pitiful than ever. Shaking his head, Two-Face grasped at his temples with one hand and tried to ease the strain away to no avail. “Edward, for crying out loud, look at yourself. When was the last time you looked in a goddamn mirror?”

Edward blinked. “I, uh. I don’t know.”

“When was the last time you ate? Changed your clothes? Bathed? **You smell like absolute shit, Edward, and we mean that with every drop of fucking concern we’ve got left in our rotten fucking heart.** ”

Edward looked down at his hands, taking in his destroyed cuticles and grimy nails. His gaze shifted to the film of mechanical grease and dirt that built up on his arms. He barely even realized he was wearing clothing, but upon noticing the stains and tears on his shirt that was significantly looser than he remembered it being, he couldn’t muster a response. He turned and looked in the small mirror above the cell’s sink, staring dumbfoundedly at himself for the first time in what had to be over a month. 

_“How long have you been living like this, Edward?”_

“I don’t know,” Edward reiterated, voice dropping to a near whisper. For the first time in the night, Edward sounded defeated, still staring directly at the pathetic husk of a man he saw in the mirror. Sinking to his knees, the scrawny man collapsed into himself. He felt disgusting, suddenly sickened with the state he was in. How could he not have noticed?

“Edward?” Two-Face approached the man, crouching down and placing a hand on his shoulder. Even the button-down he wore felt filthy. 

“They’re gonna send me back to a goddamn asylum, aren’t they, Harvey?” His voice was cracking. The egotistical façade had all but dropped, revealing the scared, insecure man underneath.

“Yeah. I think that’ll be the case for the both of us,” Two-Face stated as gently as he could, refusing to bullshit Edward even in a state like this. “You need help, Eddie. You’ve gotta admit it.”

Edward choked back a sob, then two more before he couldn’t hold back any longer. He buried his face into his own body, muffling his cries as he finally broke down into tears. Without thinking, Two-Face picked the quivering, devastated mess up effortlessly off the ground and held him in his arms. It broke his heart feeling just how small Edward had become.

Instead of fighting back, Edward accepted it, clinging to Two-Face for dear life. Two-Face gently rested the smooth side of his face on Edward’s head as the vanquished Riddler inconsolably bawled into his shoulder. He continued to hold Edward tightly in his strong arms, letting the man process what he had been holding back for so long. Slowly closing his eyes and shifting his weight side to side, Two-Face started to sing to poor Edward, just like he used to during their romantic Saturday nights back at the Iceberg Lounge. His voice carried through the cell, a warm and comforting distraction on such a dreadfully stress-inducing night.

_“I'm sorry dear, so sorry dear_

_I'm sorry I made you cry_

_Won't you forget, won't you forgive?_

_Don't let us say goodbye_

_One little word, one little smile_

_One little kiss won't you try?_

_It breaks my heart to hear you sigh_

_I'm sorry I made you cry”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temporarily together in a GCPD lockup cell a day after Crane's attempted takeover of Gotham, Two-Face and Nygma take a moment to reconnect after their respective criminal schemes kept them apart for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter to what was supposed to be a one-off fic!! woo woo.  
> I have no idea where this is going or where it will end up, but I was in dire need of some twiddler interaction.
> 
> Same note as before: Regarding Dent, I use Two-Face to refer to them as a whole, and anything in bold specifically is "Bad Harv" speaking. Frequent co-con hours for these boys.

Two-Face woke up groggily in the far corner of the cell, propped up against the cold brick wall with a still-sleeping Edward curled up in his arms. He had no idea what time it was, and at this point, he only really gave a damn that Edward managed to get some rest for once in his life. Careful not to wake him up, Two-Face slowly shifted into a more comfortable position, gently running his fingers through Edward’s horribly greasy hair. He began to converse internally, squeezing his undamaged eye shut as he did.

**“He’s a wreck, Harvey. The hell were you thinking, leaving him alone for so long?”**

“Come on, he’s a grown man. He had his plans so carefully laid out; you and I both figured he could handle himself.”

**“Yeah, and look where it got him. Motherfucker looks like he weighs a buck fifty soaking wet. What’s he even been living off of? Energy drinks? A stray pop tart every few days?”**

“I get it, should have been there for him, but this? This was out of our control, Harv. We can only do what we can to help him now.”

 **“Fine, but** **_you_ ** **better not let him down like this again.”**

“ _Shut up_. I won’t. We won’t.”

With a deep sigh, Two-Face cut the silent bickering short, opening his eye and refocusing his vision. While it was rare to get either Dent to agree on anything, Edward’s well-being was one thing they both held in high regard. He frowned, now getting a better look at the blood and bruising that covered Edward’s face and arms.

While Harv could easily take a pummeling on Harvey’s behalf and be (for the most part) none the worse for wear, Edward had to face the violence all on his own. After all, there was no “Big Bad Ed” in there to step in and take the punishment for him. The notoriously self-aggrandizing Riddler never wanted to admit how much his losses to the caped crusader impacted him, but between the humiliation and the beatings, Batman all too often dragged up unwanted memories buried deep in Nygma’s mind. Two-Face could always tell, and this time was no different. He could only hope that the demoralized man curled up against him wasn’t having nightmares.

Two-Face wiggled his toes to remind himself that his legs weren’t actually melding with the concrete in a staticky haze; sleeping on the floor of a prison cell was not ideal, especially not after a night of failed bank robberies and a vigilante beatdown of his very own. Feeling Edward stir with a miserable groan, Two-Face went back to combing through his hair, knowing how well it had soothed the neurotic man in the past

“Eddie,” he whispered. “You up?”

The smaller man grumbled, still only half awake. “Don’t call me that. Only Two-Face can...Harvey?” He blinked a few times, the vision in his right eye still blurry from the burst blood vessels and incessant watering. “You’re still here?”

“They locked us in a cell together, remember?”

“Oh, right. Yes. I recall,” Edward winced. The pain was coming back to him, and he had not yet truly gone through a thorough mental catalogue of the damage. Bit by bit, he made his assessment: At least one fractured rib, he was certain considering the agonizing sharpness upon inhalation. Bruises and lacerations, a given. No indication of concussion, but for sure a black eye. 

His mind kept racing back to his neck, which was particularly badly bruised and produced a dull, deep ache when he turned his head. He felt the faint shadow of a hand gripping against the sore areas and constricting, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes to drive the sensation away. Edward could swear Batman made it a point to go for the neck. _Why did he always grab for his damn neck?_ It was as if he knew.

“We’re so sorry, Ed,” Two-Face whispered, breaking the silence. It was definitely Harvey issuing the apology, but Edward could tell it was on behalf of both. “We’re sorry we didn’t check in.”

“Under other circumstances, I’d say you should be,” Edward muttered, idly pressing down on a bruise that crossed his forearm, “but I never even thought to call. I was so invested in my work, so sure I could defeat him once and for all, but the incorrigible cheat got his way...again.” His eyes narrowed. “I even sent _Riddlerbots_ to vandalize that absurd piece of paramilitary equipment he calls a car, just to add insult to injury when I _finally_ beat him at his game. Some plan that turned out to be.”

“ **He ruined our fucking bank heist, too,”** Two-Face growled. “We were going to take all of Gotham’s dirty money to the figurative cleaners. Guess fate wasn’t on our side tonight.” The scarred man shuddered upon further taking in Edward’s physical condition. “The bat only roughed us up a little though. **What the hell did he do to you, Ed? Was it all him?** ”

Edward’s eyes darted to the side. Avoiding the first part of the question, he replied. “Not just him. Kyle, too.”

Scowling upon hearing the name, Two-Face felt his shoulders tense. “Selina? Goddamnit, Ed. I’m so sorry. **She’s a ruthless motherfucker. We’re still pissed about her scratching up our good side.** ”

“I know,” Edward laughed weakly. “It’s why I used her as _bat bait_.”

“ **For little ol’ us?** ”

“I can’t say I wasn’t thinking of you, Two,” Edward mused, now trying to flake the dried blood off from under his nose. “I won’t forget the time you took Iceberg for me.”

“Those were the days, huh Eddie? Can’t say I missed that failed experiment of a prison, **but I sure had a hell of a lot of fun while it lasted.** **Surprised ol’ Ozzy could look us in the eyes and strike a weapons deal after that whole shitshow.** ”

“Cobblepot was going to betray you, you know,” Edward stated flatly.

Two-Face let out a sigh. “Yeah, we figured as much. Coin told us to go through with it, anyway, but the guns have been confiscated, the money’s lost, **and Cobblepot’s also in the slammer**. Whatever would have come of that deal, good or bad, is null and void.”

Two-Face halted his train of thought, distracted by Edward, who at this point was trying to scrape out the grime from underneath his scraggly, unkempt fingernails. Edward glanced back at Two-Face and blinked. “What are you ogling at me for, Two?”

“You’re still filthy. C’mon Ed, can you get up on your feet?”

“I am more than able,” Edward retorted, shakily attempting to move himself up off the ground. His knees buckled and he collapsed back onto the concrete, muttering a few expletives under his breath before trying again. This time, he felt the steady hands of Two-Face supporting him as he slowly stood up. Draping one arm around Two-Face’s shoulder, Edward coughed. “You didn’t see that,” he grumbled sheepishly.

Two-Face let out an amused puff of air from his nostrils. “Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to forget it.” He walked Edward slowly towards the sink in the other corner of the cell, desperately hoping that the water was still running. Catching a glimpse of himself in the grimy mirror, Two-Face felt the familiar emotional bile of disgust rising in his throat. He couldn’t dwell on it, though; this wasn’t about him. 

Edward also couldn’t bear to look at himself; the typically vain man made an effort to avoid spotting his own reflection, afraid to relive the same deep shame he experienced the night before. Two-Face carefully assisted Edward in taking off his shirt and the torn tank top he wore underneath it, heart aching at the sight of Edward’s gaunt, weakened frame. Looking around for a piece of fabric not stained by motor oil and blood, Two-Face removed his blue necktie (many protocol oversights had been made in the aftermath of the militia attack, he noted) and ran it under the sink. “Heads up, Eddie. Water’s near freezing.”

He started with Edward’s face, gently wiping away what remained of the blood from beneath his nostrils and the smudges of grime on his cheeks. Edward squinted involuntarily upon coming in contact with the ice-cold, damp cloth, but it did well to numb the pain, especially around his eye. 

“So, what were you going to do with the money?” Edward asked, wrapping his arms around himself in a futile attempt to warm himself up. 

Two-Face returned to the sink and re-wet the tie, wringing it out before placing it on Edward’s bare chest. He skipped over his neck, knowing full well it would be best to avoid touching that for a while, and delicately started cleaning in a circular motion. “Hmm...surprise, surprise, we were stuck between two options. Heads, we would have donated half to charity and reinvested half back into Hell’s Gate. Sure, it may have been a front, but we were still _technically_ running a legitimate business. Not many folks hire people with felony convictions, after all.” Two-Face sighed, wondering what even would become of Hell’s Gate now that he was incarcerated. **“Tails? We would’ve bought out the loyalty of all Cobblepot’s men to finally secure a solid foothold in Gotham’s underground weapons trade. He’s not the only backstabbing bastard in this messed-up town.”**

“Guess you could call it a double-deal.” Edward laughed at his own statement, cut short by the stabbing feeling in his fractured rib. On reflex, he flinched, letting out a whimper he immediately silenced and stuffed back down into his throat. 

“ **Can’t help it. I’m a gemini.** ”

Edward rolled his eyes, now allowing Two-Face to wash his left arm. “Isn’t your birthday in December?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

Two-Face shrugged in response, returning his focus to scrubbing the dirt off of Edward’s bony hand. “ **I think so, December something. Don’t really celebrate birthdays anymore. We usually forget. Only date that matters now is the courtroom incident,** **the day our pretty face went straight to Hell.** **_That_ ** **was June.** ”

“Right, right. Hm, not like astrology matters anyway. It’s all superstitious metaphysical drivel.” Edward lifted his right arm out to the side for Harvey to take care of. As frigid as the air felt on his bare skin, and despite the lack of soap, he definitely felt less disgusting than he did before. He tensed his lips, looking awkwardly to the side; he loved attention, lived for it, but as soon as it was given to him without his instigation, he never knew how to respond. Two-Face cared so deeply for him, and all Edward could wonder was why. “Thank you for this,” he whispered, internally fumbling over anything further to say.

“It’s no worry, Eddie. Besides... **you smelled awful.”** He smirked, taking off his suit coat and handing it to the now-shivering man in front of him. “Should be warm enough, I’m burning up in here, personally.”

Edward took the bulky coat in his hands. “Lucky you,” he huffed, pulling on the two-toned blazer. It was easily at least three sizes too large for him, feeling more like a blanket than a jacket. The residual body heat was enough to stop the shivering, but Edward knew it wouldn’t last for long. It was simply a matter of basic thermodynamics. He spoke up, grabbing Dent’s attention. “...Two, dear?”

“Yeah?”

“I need to sit down,” Edward weakly muttered, his quivering voice betraying his exhaustion. Two-Face nodded, once again supporting Edward in the short-but-arduous trek across the cell and onto the lone twin-sized prison bed. The mattress was hard and lumpy, and Edward had to reposition to avoid sitting directly on top of a spring. Two-Face joined him, eliciting a loud creak from the mattress. Edward leaned himself against Two-Face, feebly bringing his arm around the larger man’s waist. He snuggled up closer, careful not to bump his rib in the process.

Two-Face turned his head, tenderly kissing Edward on the cheek. “Whatever happens after this, Ed, wherever we all end up, we will do our damn best to be there by your side, okay?” 

Edward blinked slowly, not even making an attempt to hide the tears that silently welled up in his big, green eyes. “Okay,” he croaked, resting his head on Two-Face’s shoulder.

“We’ll get through this together. We promise.” Placing one more kiss on the top of his head, Two-Face stood up, allowing Edward to sprawl out on the small bed as well as he could. He pulled the thin sheet over his body; he had no idea if it was of any help, but small comforts went a long way in prison. He of all people would know that too well.

“Good night, Harvey. Good night, Harv,” Edward mumbled into the mattress. “Whatever time it actually is.” It could have been three in the afternoon for all he cared; it wasn’t like anyone could tell in the maximum security lockup.

Two-Face chuckled. “Good night, Eddie. **We love you.** ” He took a seat on the floor next to the bed, just in case Edward needed him later. His mind and body again began to slide out of alignment, settling on an odd, but not uncomfortable fuzzy sensation in his limbs. He let himself drift off to sleep, reassuring himself repeatedly that for now, _just for now_ , he and his dear enigma were together, safe and sound.


End file.
